


Finally Someone Sees

by wallflow3r



Series: Seen and unseen [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Dynamics, Feels, Fluff, Insecurity, Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Beth Greene, POV Daryl Dixon, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Showers, Sleepy Cuddles, bethyl, minor threat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflow3r/pseuds/wallflow3r
Summary: "Daryl watches Beth through his overgrown fringe, face completely still save his eyes, tracking her as she brings a bowl of today’s lunch over to her daddy, Judith resting on her hip. Hershel’s eyes meet his over Judith’s head, causing Daryl to flush guiltily. Caught like some sort of Peeping Tom.  Had the old man been watching him watch Beth? "





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Coco04 and LeighJ for bouncing ideas, and double thanks to Coco04 for beta'ing like a boss. 
> 
> Comments are like crack so let me know what you think ;)

Daryl’s eyes track Beth’s movements around the yard from where he is sat on the ground, hunched over his crossbow cleaning it. His eyes tracking the tiniest twitch and tremor like a wolf watching a rabbit.  

She looks stunning in a bright blue sundress that makes her eyes glow like the Georgia sky. He could watch his girl all day long, and he does, if he's not out on a run. _His girl._ He still can't believe she’s his.  She brings Judith out into the yard so that he can keep an eye on her while he works on his bike or on the fence. She says Judith needs the fresh air or vitamin D or some shit but he knows she does it for him. Because she knows he doesn't like being away from her and she feels the same way. In these past four months they've barely been apart. If he's honest it scares him. He used to think he was better alone, used to keep everyone at arm's length but now being alone makes his skin feel too tight. So at night he slips into her cell once everyone is asleep and in the morning leaves before everyone is awake. He's always been an early riser anyway, but he’s really not sure if he’d be able to get to sleep without listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. When she looks at him across the yard and smiles that secret smile it stirs an ache in his chest.

He’s sat just a few feet from the outdoor kitchen where people have gathered for lunch.  Carol is busy frying something up using the copious amounts of oil Glenn and Maggie scored on a run. He snagged some on his way past and is using it to meticulously coat his crossbow using a red rag.

Daryl watches Beth through his overgrown fringe, face completely still save his eyes, tracking her as she brings a bowl of today’s lunch over to her daddy, Judith resting on her hip. Hershel’s eyes meet his over Judith’s head, causing Daryl to flush guiltily. Caught like some sort of Peeping Tom.  Had the old man been watching him watch Beth? Hershel nods and gives him a friendly smile; it reaches his eyes. _Not this time._ Daryl hastily returns the nod before he looks down at his crossbow and busies himself coating the metal with oil. He should be more careful than to stare but he can’t help find himself drawn to her.

“Daryl”

He looks up and there she is, handing him lunch with a beaming smile that radiates from her eyes and stretches across her face. She’s damn near outshining the sun this morning. As he reaches for the bowl, his fingers touch hers and they linger. Her skin like silk under his rough callouses. His fingertips can’t resist circling her knuckles.  Her eyes soften as they hold his.  Daryl stares at her for a moment; then grunts and takes the bowl. Beth gives him another smile before spinning on her heel. As he follows her back to the make shift kitchen he meets Hershel’s eyes again, this time catching him drawn to the sway of her hips as she walks away. Daryl’s face darkens and he looks at the ground. _Shit._

Before Daryl can start to worry about what Hershel did or did not see, there’s a sudden flare, then a scream. _Beth’s_ scream. His blood runs cold. The pan has caught fire and erupts hot and fast like a volcano, spreading across the rest of the stove. Beth is turning away, cradling Judith to her chest, wrapping her body around her like a shield.  He’s lunging forward like a man possessed, crossbow thrown to the ground, throwing himself between Beth and the grease fire.

He feels the burning heat through his vest and smells the hairs on his bicep singe as he curls around her back. As soon as he reaches her, his big hands frame her tiny arms and she practically glides forward as he manhandles her across the yard. Only when they’re a more than safe distance away from the spreading fire does he slow to a stop.

“You ok? You hurt? You on fire?” He asks, patting her down frantically, turning her roughly to check every inch of exposed skin.

“Yeah,” she answers, with a shaky laugh, “I’m fine, _we’re_ fine” she adds, easing the tight grip she’s using to press Judith against her chest.

Daryl’s eyes flicker to Judith and he strokes the baby’s head gently with a giant hand, his eyes returning to Beth’s as he lets out a relieved breath, his other hand still gripping her arm protectively.

She holds his gaze, eyes softening at his furrowed brow and tight mouth.

“I’m _fine,_ ” she repeats, the corners of her mouth turning up into a reassuring smile that reaches all the way to the rose in her cheeks.

He hums, low and rumbling, his fingers finally loosening on her arm but his hand remaining. His thumb lightly strokes the flesh of her bicep where they touch, his pounding heart beginning to slow.

She breaks eye contact to look over his shoulder. A wave of guilt washes over him as he realises he hadn’t given a second though to the fire or Carol or the others.

He can smell the smoke before he sees it, turning his head to watch Carol throwing wet towels over the makeshift stove. With the plumes of smoke filling the yard, only then do people start to react, scattering and yelling.

Daryl’s head turns back to Beth to find her staring at him, her eyes sparkling. His own eyes start to narrow back at her when he notices Hershel approaching them. Daryl’s hand drops from Beth’s arm quickly and he takes half a step back away from her for good measure.

He looks at the ground, chewing on his lip as the old man stops in front of Beth, his arm reaching around her shoulders, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her temple. No words are needed, the relief is written all over his face as he and Beth exchange a familial look. He cups Judith’s head and places a kiss on her crown, before a smile stretches across his face to match his eyes which are two crinkled slits.

Daryl glances up through his hair, his head still bowed, in fascination at the love and affection between parent and child, so different from his own relationship with his father. The side of his mouth quirks, seeing how much Hershel loves his youngest daughter, and watching that love mirrored back at him. He suddenly feels as though he is intruding on a private family moment and turns to leave.

“Daryl”

Hershel’s voice, and the steady hand on his shoulder, stops Daryl in his tracks. Daryl tenses automatically, eyes jerk first to his hand warily, assessing the threat, then up to his eyes. Seeing that Hershel is still wearing the same broad smile, Daryl relaxes a little, forcing himself to meet the older man’s gaze.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did just now,” he says, grabbing Daryl’s hand in his own and shaking it firmly, “For keeping my Bethy safe.”

Daryl flushes under the admiration, eyes flying from Hershel to Beth, her eyes swimming at her father’s words, and then back to the ground in a shy nod.

“Ain’t nothing,” Daryl says, raising a hand to chew on his thumb.

Hershel stares at him, so intensely that Daryl is forced to look up and meet his eyes again. He’s met with a warmth that reminds him of Beth. The old man looks _proud_ of him. He’s caught people looking at him his whole life and seen a lot in their eyes, disgust or fear mostly, on occasion pity, but never pride. Daryl doesn’t think anyone has ever been proud of him for anything in his whole damn life and the unfamiliar feeling makes his stomach flip.

“No,” Hershel says softly, “It’s everything.”

In his periphery, Daryl sees Beth’s eyes widen affectionately and her mouth open in a silent ‘oh’.

He nods curtly in response, pulling his eyes away, swinging them anywhere but the old man’s gratified gaze.

“So,” Hershel continues, lowering his voice secretively, causing Beth and Daryl to lean closer instinctively, “When are you planning to tell the others about you two?”

At that, Daryl’s heart stops in his chest and his eyes dart widely to Beth’s, her shocked expression mirroring his own as their eyes meet for just a moment before flying back to Hershel.

“You’d best tell Maggie before she figures it out, or she’ll cut your balls off,” He winks at Daryl, eyes sparkling.

Daryl snorts softly at that, remembering Maggie’s equally violent reaction when she had found out. Although it may have had more to do with the fact that she had walked in on him fucking Beth up against a wall in the watchtower. And with that, Hershel breaks the tension just enough that Daryl doesn’t think he’s going to hurl on the old man’s shoes. Beth’s eyes are flying from her daddy to Daryl and back again, too wide and a tight smile frozen across her face.

“How’d you know?” Daryl surprises himself by asking, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hershel’s smile softens, and something in that smile steadies the pounding heart threatening to burst out of Daryl’s chest.

“Because wherever Beth is, you aren’t far behind,” He explains, raising his eyebrows as he nods at his daughter. Daryl breathes out heavily through his nose. He’d known the old man had caught him watching her.

“I was worried about you, Beth. After the farm, I didn’t know if you’d be okay,” He hesitates; Beth looks away, eyes downcast, face flushed.

Daryl’s jaw tightens, remembering the farm and how Beth nearly opted out of this shit show. He watches her brow crease even as she tries to keep her face neutral. He knows she feels bad about what she did, that she was selfish and weak. That’s not how he sees it though, and he wishes he could tell her but he’s never been able to find the words. He didn’t know Beth back then, but he saw what she lost; her mother, her brother, Otis, Patricia. He saw how the grief consumed her and the brutality of this new world terrified her, to the point where she didn’t want to be in it. But against all that she came through it and decided to live. That’s brave. That takes strength.

Hershel cups her chin and tips it up, drawing her cloudy eyes to his.

“But now? I’ve never seen you so happy, Junebug. You’re glowing,”

Her lips quirk and her eyes flick to Daryl’s. His eyes lock onto hers, burning with something he can’t explain or understand but that fills him every time he’s around her.

“That’s the glow of someone in love, I’d know it anywhere,” Hershel tells them, matter-of-fact, “and I noticed that Daryl has that same glow. When I met him, I didn’t think he knew how to smile!” The old man grins at Daryl, who smirks back. Beth laughs, all breath, her eyes sparkling.

It takes a beat, but then Daryl swallows audibly. It catches Beth and Hershel’s attention, and their eyes fall on Daryl.

“You don’ mind?” He asks, cocking his head in confusion, the nervous habit of someone used to being met with hostility at every turn. Beth’s heart aches a little, and she watches her daddy intensely as she waits for his reply.

“Mind?” Hershel’s eyes widen in surprise, “Daryl, you’re a good man, and there aren’t many of those left,” his arm settles back on Daryl’s shoulder. “You make my little girl happy,” the hand on his shoulder gives it a squeeze for emphasis. “I can sleep a little easier knowing that you will keep her safe.”  Hershel gives him a serious look, his lips pulled in a tight line, his forehead creased to convey the importance of his words.

Beth is staring at her daddy with wide eyes, watery at the edges, soaking up every word.

Daryl blinks slowly. Knowing Hershel is a man of his word and that he means every word he is saying, feeling honoured and perplexed in equal measures.

“Ain’t nothing gonna hurt Beth while I’m still standing,” he growls, narrowing his eyes.

“I can see that, son,” Hershel smiles, his expression softening again, “I’m happy for you both.”

Daryl hears Beth’s breath hitch and his own breath is stolen right out of his lungs.

“And the rest of the family will be happy for you too,” he implores, “So there’s no need to keep hiding. This is something good.”

“Oh, daddy,” Beth’s voice is a whimper as she walks forward to hug him tightly with her free arm, trapping Judith between them.  Hershel smiles, leaning into Beth’s embrace, but keeping his eyes locked on Daryl’s.

 Daryl looks back in awe, feeling the gravity of Hershel’s acceptance like a weight being lifted off his chest. He nods, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile, and spans his palm across the small of Beth’s back. She looks back at him, flashing him a cheeky grin that she couldn’t hold back even if she wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth hadn’t really given much thought to what her family would think of her relationship with Daryl. She was so sick of everyone looking at her like a child that when he looked at her like a woman that was all that mattered. His burning gaze, his hungry mouth and his strong hands on her was all that mattered. She didn’t do a whole lot of thinking at all.

In all honesty, sneaking around and feeling like they were having some sort of forbidden love affair had been a huge turn on, in the beginning anyway. Feeling as though she was Daryl Dixon’s _dirty little secret_ and that every time he placed his hands on her he risked being found out, being _caught_ , had ruined many a pair of Beth Greene’s panties.

Then when it started feeling there was more to what they were doing she revelled in having it all to herself. He was _hers_ and she was _his_ and this was _theirs_. Maybe it was selfish but she’d never had someone just for her before and it felt so good. She even got to have Daryl Dixon in her bed at night; he would sneak in unnoticed like a cat in the evening and leave at the crack of dawn, but never without kissing her goodbye. She felt like she had it all, so really, what was to be gained by telling the others?

But when her daddy called Daryl a good man and said that he was happy for them her heart felt fit to burst because the reason she hadn’t let herself think about whether or not her family would approve was because deep down she wanted them to. The relief and the joy washed over her like a wave, every inch of her feeling energised; her face about to break from smiling so hard. Looking into Daryl’s eyes she saw her feelings mirrored, mixed with confusion. She knows Daryl didn’t expect her father to accept their relationship let alone give them his blessing. His puzzled expression was near comical but underneath it she could see that it meant a lot. His acceptance, which they hadn’t sought or consciously craved, meant a whole lot more than either of them realised.

Her father saw her happiness and that Daryl was the cause of it. He saw that what they have together is something good, and in the world now there isn’t a whole lot of good to go around. If her own daddy could see what they have for what it is, something good, maybe the others could too. See it or not, their secret was now out in the open.

 

* * *

 

There are a few raised eyebrows when Daryl stalks into the dining room, up to his forearms in grease and sits down next to Beth at dinner. It might not seem like anything, but in the same way that Daryl Dixon doesn’t eat his meals with cutlery, he doesn’t eat them at the dinner table. He usually takes them crouched on the floor in the corner or shovels them into his mouth with his hands as he passes through. Daryl Dixon does not sit at the dinner table, at dinnertime.

The simple gesture causes her heart to stir. That they can have something as simple as this, something so ordinary but at the same time something so nice, it makes her smile widen into a grin. He knows she likes this kind of thing; sharing meals together, a slice of what used to pass as normal in the old world. Hershel seems to feel the same because his hand comes down to pat Daryl on the shoulder, and he gives him a welcoming smile and a nod.

Daryl’s bicep brushes against her arm as he sinks down into the seat next to her. He doesn’t look at Beth, doesn’t need to. His knee bumps into hers, but he doesn’t adjust himself, he leaves their limbs pressed together. Her heart beats a little faster. They’re just innocent touches; she shouldn’t be getting so much out of them, except that Daryl never touches her in public. If she thinks about it, she’s never seen him touch anyone, he actively avoids physical contact. So to have him sat next to her now, his thigh pressed up against hers, arms almost touching, it’s got her stomach doing backflips.

When Glenn and Maggie make their way over to the table to find Daryl sat between Hershel and Beth, Maggie’s eyes look ready to pop out of her skull. So much so that Glenn has to elbow her, but she doesn’t say anything at they sit down, although her eyes drift between Daryl and her father curiously. Beth can feel the eyes of the rest of the prison on her back, and a flush spreads across her cheeks as she begins to feel uncomfortably like an animal at the zoo.

She feels Daryl’s arm slide around her waist, all at once the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and the tension in her shoulders melts. He leans into her so that his lips at close enough that she feels his breath, hot and moist against her ear.

“Y’alright?” he murmurs, pulling back to study her face.

Her blush deepens, she’s sure she’s red as a lobster by now, but she doesn’t care. Her eyes sparkle as she looks back across the small distance between them.

“Yeah,” she nods, as her mouth splits into a grin, “Yeah, this is real nice.”

He hums, studying her eyes for a moment longer before swinging his attention back to his plate. He proceeds to scoop the contents into his mouth, using his fork like a shovel, chewing with his mouth open, not unlike a garbage truck on trash day. His arm remains around her waist, fingers gripping her hip loosely.

Beth has to laugh when she looks up to see Maggie staring in silent horror, her mouth turned down and nose wrinkled in disgust. Her eyes flick to Glenn’s to see him watching with wry amusement. When their eyes meet he bursts out laughing. Maggie’s scowling when she looks over at him and it only makes them both laugh harder.

Daryl’s narrowing his eyes as he looks up at Glenn, swallowing a large mouthful of stew.

“The fuck’s so funny?” he barks, gravy dribbling down his chin.

Beth leans into his side, shaking as she tries and fails to calm down, more little hiccups of laughter continuing to bubble up, and she can tell by the way he’s looking at her that he doesn’t mind it.

Beth sees her daddy watching them all with a bemused expression on his face. It reminds her of the way he used to look at the Greene family dinner table back at the farm when she and Shaun would get the giggles over something or other and Maggie would roll her eyes at them for being such _kids_. When her eyes meet his across the table and she sees them crinkle back at her she wonders if he's thinking the same thing; that this feels like family, this feels like home.

 

* * *

 

Hints of dusk are cast through the barred windows as evening falls on the prison. Beth has just settled Judith down for the night and is heading to her cell when she sees Daryl enter the cell block, back from his evening shift in the watch tower. She can’t help admiring him: the crossbow slung over his broad shoulders, massive arms bared in his sleeveless shirt, his wild hair grown to obscure his eyes as it nudges his sharp cheekbones.

As if sensing he’s being watched, his eyes look up and lock onto hers. Her breath catches in her throat, she watches those icy blue slits narrowing _,_ focused on her _._ Her pulse quickens under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes burn into hers, sending a shiver through her body.

They've reached the part of the evening where she just wants to curl up with him. She’s tired and she wants the comfort of feeling his body wrapped around hers. An ache stirs in her chest knowing they have to wait until everyone else has gone to bed. He must feel it too because moments later he's crossing the room in wide strides, rapidly closing the distance between them. She doesn't miss the way that Carol’s eagle eyes follow him as he passes by the others without saying a word to where Beth's stood on the landing

Or the way that Carl's eyes linger on Daryl's hand as he places it on the small of her back when he wordlessly turns her around and guides her towards her cell.

She just catches Rick do a double take and narrow his eyes in confusion as she ducks into her cell, Daryl following close behind, before the privacy curtain drops down behind them both.

 

* * *

 

When Beth wakes up there’s something different and it takes her a few moments to work out what it is. As she opens her eyes she feels Daryl’s arms tangled around her, only instead of loosening to go, they’re tightening as he snuggles into the back of her, burying his face in her hair. His chest expands into the space between them as he breathes her in, and she smiles, feeling his dick nudging her ass through the thin fabric of his boxers, twitching as she responds with a teasing wiggle.

Then she notices what’s different about this morning; she can hear the faint sound of voices outside her cell and see the morning sun brighten the drawn curtain. Dawn has come and gone and Daryl Dixon is still in her bed. Daryl has never needed more than a few hours of sleep, and that is all he’s ever allowed them together. Usually he would disentangle himself from her, dress and leave before first light. Only she’s woken to find herself still wrapped in his vice like grip, his body like a furnace against her back. Beth’s stomach flutters when she realises _he’s still asleep_. He must have woken up like he always does and decided to stay because _he’s still here._

Snuggling back against him, she can feel Daryl is well on the way to hard now. When her ass pushes back against his dick, he’s solid and blasting heat between her cheeks.

“ _Girl_ ,” Daryl growls, vibrating against the back of her neck, making her shiver all the way down to her pussy.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” She whispers, melting into him.

“Liar,” he scoffs, and she laughs softly when a kiss lands on her shoulder.

Beth turns around in his grasp so that she's facing him, his hot breath ghosting across her cheek. He leans back, pulling her with him to lay across his broad chest, his morning wood trapped between them and forgotten.

Gently, she tries to pull away, but feels his arms tighten around her, trapping her against his chest, his sandpaper cheek nuzzling her face into his neck. Turning her head, she kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Don’t gotta get up yet,” He grunts and she feels it rumble from his chest into hers, “Go back t’ sleep.” Daryl’s hands on her lower back slides down briefly to cup her ass before rising again, rubbing soothingly.

The steady rise and fall of his chest starts to lull her back to sleep. He feels so good. And for once, she closes her eyes and lets it.  

 

* * *

 

When Beth emerges from her cell, Carl turns and smiles at her from where he’s stood holding Judith on the landing. Then his eyes grow huge like dinner plates as he watches Daryl follow out behind her. His cheeks start to colour but he doesn’t look away.  
  
Beth flashes him a bright smile, despite her rabbiting heart pounding nervously in her throat. She takes Judith from his arms before turning to follow Daryl who is already half way down the staircase.  
  
As they pass Rick at the bottom of the steps, he opens his mouth as if to say something then closes it again. She doesn’t miss the incredulous look he gives Michonne.   
  
"Morning," Beth chimes. Her voice comes out a little too loud and a little too cheery judging by their stunned faces and hasty nods in return.  
  
_God this is awkward._ She feels a flush spread across her cheeks, embarrassment rising in her chest at the unfamiliar attention. Daryl doesn’t display any outward signs that he's noticed the looks, but when his eyes flick up to meet hers he pauses for just a moment before she feels him slow his step so that he can walk beside her. Her heart remains relatively steady as his arm comes up to cup her elbow, steering her towards the corner where Judith's formula is kept.  
  
"Daryl an' _Beth_?" She hears Rick ask under his breath. “ _Daryl_ an’ Beth?”  
  
Looking back over her shoulder, Beth catches Michonne smirking her knowing smirk at him.  
  
"Oh come on,” Beth can practically hear Michonne roll her eyes at Rick, “You know it wasn't his idea.”

 

* * *

 

By mid-morning, every man, woman and child has heard about how the _squinty eyed red neck_ is shacking up with the _blonde teenage babysitter_. Beth is trying not to let it get to her, but she can’t help the sour taste in her mouth when she thinks about how what she and Daryl have has been reduced to a juicy piece of gossip doing the rounds.

She’s never cared for gossip; back when she was still in school she would just roll her eyes when Maggie would excitedly begin a sentence with ‘ _you’ll never guess what’._ She wasn’t interested in other people’s private lives, and she certainly didn’t want them taking an interest in hers. Life at the prison is like living under a microscope though; there is no place to hide. They all live practically on top of each other, and with no television to keep people entertained, people watching is the most popular form on entertainment around here, people’s sex lives being the hottest topic of all.  

She can’t help but notice how the Woodbury women doing the laundry fall silent when she walks through the yard with Judith balanced on her hip. She holds her head high and straightens her gaze when she hears them whisper once they think she’s out of hearing distance.

_Is that her? Good lord, is she even eighteen? What does her daddy think of them shacking up like that?_

Tears prick at the corner of her eyes and she walks faster so as not to let them see, because she knows the question they’re all thinking but not saying aloud.

What is he doing with _her?_

Daryl has become a bit of a hero at the prison, what with all the deer he brings back, along with planning and organising runs so that nobody at the prison goes without anything they need. He even makes runs to a nearby department store for things that people just _want_. She’s seen the way the women here look at his bulging biceps for just a couple of seconds longer than is polite.

She knows what they’re thinking. They’re wondering what he’s doing with _some babysitter_ when he could be with a real woman, like one of them. She’s eighteen and she hasn’t filled out yet, probably never will now. She’s always been skinny, but compared to some of them she feels like a teenage boy.

She’s not exactly experienced either. She’s only had two boyfriends, Jimmy back on the farm and Zach here at the prison, that’s it. She barely knew what she was doing when they started this. Sure, she’d acted confident, but in reality neither of her boyfriends had exactly been adventurous.

Under these women’s scrutinising eyes, she suddenly doesn’t feel she has the right to be Daryl Dixon’s girl and they all know it. She doesn’t go out on runs like Maggie or Michonne; all she does is stay inside the prison walls and watch Judith. Her only purpose here is to do what any of the younger kids could do for bubble gum money, while Daryl is out there risking his life keeping them all fed.

 

* * *

 

By dinnertime, Beth has definitely let it get to her. The staring and the whispering and the overheard remarks have been getting to her all day, so when Daryl slides into the seat next to her at the dinner table she almost bursts into tears, knowing that everyone will be watching them again; _judging_ them. 

He’s half way in his seat when he must sense something isn’t right and he turns to face her. She doesn’t look at him, _can’t_ look at him _,_ she just keeps her eyes down on her plate. She hears him take a measured breath, feels him studying the side of her face.

She doesn't flinch when she feels his hand on her thigh, under the table where no one can see. His hot palm blasting through worn denim provides comfort that radiates through her entire body. When his thumb caresses her inner thigh gently, it's not in a sexual way, but as if to calm a nervous horse that looks ready to bolt.

With him next to her she starts to feel like her old self again. Her skin doesn’t quite itch as though it’s too tight like it has been all day. She turns and gives him a lopsided smile, her heartbeat speeding up when the corner of his mouth quirks in return. He’s so calm, pooling blue eyes meeting hers as she looks up at him, and she finds herself not caring about the prying eyes of their captive audience at all. Not one bit.

“Daryl, I wanted to talk to you about Beth.”

You could hear a pin drop as the room falls strangely quiet when Hershel speaks. Beth stares up at her daddy like a rabbit in the headlights. Her heart is thundering like a racehorse. Across from her, Maggie and Glenn are staring too, as is everyone else within earshot; she can feel their eyes hot on the back of her neck. Only when she glances at Daryl he’s not; he’s looking back at Hershel with the same neutral expression and calm eyes as he had been looking at her a moment ago.

“I was thinking that I might watch Judith tomorrow so that you can take Beth out hunting with you,” Hershel continues, talking directly to Daryl, oblivious to the attention his words have drawn.

“I know you haven’t been able to take her out in a while, and no doubt there’s still a lot you would like to teach her.”

Maggie scoffs. “Oh, I’m sure there’s a whole lot Daryl wants to teach her, daddy.”

Her smirk twists into a grimace when Beth’s foot violently connects with her shin under the table.

Daryl clears his throat. “Sounds good,” he says with a nod.

Hershel smiles and turns his gaze to Beth. He looks so wise. She’s always admired her father; always known him to be good man and wanted to be like him. Watching him now, he’s either oblivious to the fact they’re being gawked at, or he’s choosing not to dignify the attention with a response. Either way, Beth has never wanted to be more like her father, or loved him as much as she does right now.

She reaches for Daryl’s hand and when they meet he grips her back. She’s smiling again. A soft, small smile curls her lips as rough fingers curl between hers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame Coco04 for the lack of smut in this chapter.
> 
> Hold out for the next one though!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but it's finally here and hopefully it's worth waiting for...
> 
> Thanks Coco for beta'ing faster than I can write, and sorry for making you hate me!!

Daryl is feeling really fucking proud of himself as he walks with Beth side by side along the river bank. He’s watching her in his periphery as he looks for signs of the game they’re tracking upstream. He's proud of himself because he’s managed to keep his hands off her the entire time they’ve been outside of the prison walls. It hasn't been easy, that's for damn sure. What with the enormous, grateful puppy dog eyes she's been giving him since they stepped foot in the forest and she took a great lungful of the forest air. Not to mention  the impossible roundness of her ass when she's bent over to pick up not one but _three_ squirrels that she shot herself with _his_ crossbow.

And then there’s the fact that he hadn't fucked her last night. She hadn't said anything but he just knew she was feeling self-conscious now that everyone knows about them, and that their family had just watched him follow her into her cell. At night. She hadn’t said anything _at all_ , as though everyone was listening in; the privacy curtain to her cell suddenly seeming awfully thin. He didn't mind though. He was happy to just hold her. Fucking her is amazing but just sharing her bed is enough for him. More than enough. Not having to wait or sneak or leave before dawn had been more than he had ever imagined them having.

Now they're following the trail of what he's hoping is a big old buck up the riverbank, pointing out as much of the trail as he can to Beth as they go. He’s not sure how interested she really is in learning to track though because she can’t tear her eyes away from the clear blue sky above them or the thicket of green trees that surrounds them, and he’s not sure they’ve got much chance of catching anything with the racket she’s making as she manages to stand on every twig, branch and animal carcass in her path. He’s told her to watch her damn feet but despite her eager nodding the message seems to have gone in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t really mind it though. She’s beaming a smile that stretches across her entire face and makes her eyes sparkle, and he supposes if he’d been stuck behind the prison fences for as long she had he might look fit to hug a tree as well.

“So, how much further ahead of us do you think the buck is?” Beth asks, turning eagerly to face him.

He cringes as she steps on a fallen branch producing a dull crack.

“With the ruckus you’re makin’, he’s sure to be in the next county by now,” he mutters, smirking when he catches her eyes widen in mock indignation.

“What ruckus?” she asks, her voice rising as she takes the bait.

He stares at her deadpan until the penny drops.  

“What ruckus?” she whispers, too late.

“Your clumsy ass feet are findin’ every damn stick on this forest floor to stand on,” he grouses, “You got somethin’ against trees?”

When he glances at her from the side of his eyes she’s staring at him with her eyes comically wide and her mouth hanging open. He scoffs softly.

Then she rolls her eyes at him and in less than thirty seconds she’s grinning again.

“Daryl Dixon, you-”

The side of his mouth is halfway up into a smile when the soil of the riverbank gives way beneath her feet, and as the ground drops out from under her and her face starts to slide out of sight, his heart freezes in his chest and his gut somersaults.

Daryl moves faster than he ever has in his life, dropping his crossbow as he reaches to grab her with both hands.

“ _Beth!”_

Beth scrabbles desperately at the loose dirt beneath her feet, hanging from Daryl’s arms as he tries to plant himself on what remains of the bank. His feet shift in the fresh wet dirt unsteadily, body threatening to follow her as she lurches with each fumble. He feels panic rising in his chest as he drags her upwards, his feet slowly starting to slip towards the lip of the bank.

“I got you. It’s ok. I got you,” Daryl says between strained breaths, whether to reassure Beth or himself he couldn’t honestly say.

He’s holding her gaze with startling focus as she looks up at him, her eyes wide with shock but she doesn’t look half as scared as he feels. She’s dangling beneath him, his fingers digging into her forearms so hard he can feel bone and he’s bizarrely concerned that he’s bruising her but all he knows is that he _can’t let go_. He can’t let her fall.

He doesn’t.

Because the ground beneath him crumbles and he’s falling with her. As he’s skidding down the bank, the momentum throws her against his chest and they’re rolling together, his hard arms wrapping around her. He has a moment of blind panic as they tumble through the dirt, gaining speed so fast he feels dizzy and his vision becomes blurred.

They reach the bottom with a resounding squelch, coming to a stop as they sink into the muddy riverbank. It takes a few minutes before either of them moves, and then Daryl realises that his back is against the sodden ground, his awareness of up and down seemingly lost in the fall. He’s still clutching Beth to his chest, until she starts to wriggle in his grasp. He loosens his vice like grip and lifts his head to watch her push up on his chest.

Her pale skin is coated in thick, dark mud, making her shell shocked eyes look impossibly bright as she stares back at him. Sighing, he runs his hands up and down her body, taking a deep breath and letting out a shaky exhale in relief that she seems to be in one piece. She groans and rolls off of him, landing on her back with a sigh before turning onto her side to look at him.

He turns his head, until his cheek presses into the wet mud that cushioned their fall.  His entire body throbs with adrenaline, his rattled nerves still pulsing underneath. She holds his gaze a few moments, blinking slowly before she bursts into giggles. It takes a beat, but then Daryl’s laughing along with her, because even covered head to toe in mud she’s still the loveliest thing he’s ever seen.

* * *

 

It’s not unusual for Daryl Dixon to come back from a hunt dirty, it’s not even unusual for him to come back dripping, but today he doesn’t think wiping his feet on the welcome mat is quite going to cut it. He can feel the filthy river water in his boots and the grit of the soil in his underwear.

They are both covered head to toe in putrid, dark sludge, yet somehow he appears dirtier than her. Beth has a way of never appearing grubby, despite how worn everything they own is now; she still has a way of looking clean and fresh every day, even when she’s not. She had thoughtfully toed her boots off as they entered the prison and so isn’t leaving the same damp, brown footprints behind her that Daryl is.

This is why Daryl is standing outside of their cell block, absently scraping the mud off his boots against the bars onto the floor, while Beth goes up to their cells to get what they need before they head to the showers.

He rolls his aching shoulders and slumps against the wall. They’d been lucky with the fall, as far as he could tell Beth wasn’t hurt, but he wouldn’t really know until he got her clean and checked her over. They’d been lucky not to be seriously hurt, or worse. His nerves are still a jangling mess if he thinks about what could have happened.  So he doesn’t.

The climb back up the bank had been a complete bitch. The drop was damn near vertical and the top soil was wet and loose. He’d needed to go back up to get his crossbow, felt as though he was missing a limb without it. Beth, of course, had insisted on coming too. As if watching her fall down the bank hadn’t been bad enough, watching her climb up it was some fresh new form of torture.  

His heart was in his throat the entire time. Beth wasn't clumsy, he had just been teasing her before because she'd been too busy watching the sky instead of her feet. Beth has steady footing; it wasn’t that that worried him. He wasn’t keen on his own chances of making it up there; the difference was that he didn’t care how many times he fell on his ass. Her ass, on the other hand, he did care about.

He’d made her go in front of him and she’d been really careful, did what he’d said to the letter, but it hadn’t stopped his stomach doing somersaults. When her foot had slipped on a patch of loose dirt he was pretty sure he’d had a heart attack. She’d caught herself, of course; his girl has the reflexes of a cat. Still, his hand had flown up to steady her back, except that he’d missed and grabbed her ass. That had earned him a wry smile over her shoulder. When they’d finally reached the top he’d just sprawled out on the ground, gasping for breath and gazing up at the clear blue sky.

He doesn’t know how long he laid there like that, willing his heartrate to return to normal, taking deep breaths in an attempt to still the chaos churning in his mind. When he opens his eyes he sees her standing over him, his crossbow in her hand. She’s peering at him carefully from above, in a way that makes his already pounding heart skip a beat.

“I can’t believe my little sister gets to have shower sex when I’ve never done it!”

Maggie’s teasing voice jolts him back into the present. Glancing into the cell block, he sees Beth’s eyes are huge against her flushed face, faltering in her step as she passes her sister cleaning guns at the table. Daryl pushes himself away from the wall, to stand on the other side of the open door way.

“I can give Glenn some pointers if you want,” he smirks.

Then watches as Maggie’s eyebrows rise up to meet her hairline. Beth’s eyes swing up to his, mouth twisting into a tiny smile at Maggie’s gasp of indignation.

He takes Beth’s hand in his, twines their fingers together and pulls her out of the cell block, leaving Maggie to stare with her mouth opening and closing with an unspoken retort on the tip of her tongue as they walk away.

* * *

 

They’re barely half way into the shower room before Daryl’s grabbing her around the waist, making her drop the pile of fresh clothes on the floor as he drags her up to claim her mouth with his. He may have kept his hands off her all day and but he just can’t wait any longer, hot palms cupping her ass and pulling her up against him, his tongue pushing into her mouth with a rough eagerness. She lets out a surprised squeak, which draws a predatory growl from the back of his throat.

Beth’s hands push against his shoulders as she pulls her head back, ripping herself from his kiss so violently that he tries to follow her, pulling her closer until her hands slide down and push his chest, hard, forcing them apart. He freezes, staring at her in confusion, his eyes drowning in worry. Shit, maybe she’s hurt after all. His hands on her back loosen and become gentle as they ghost up and down her arms.

“We can’t… someone might come in… they might see…” she whispers, eyes flaring wide at him, biting her lip nervously.

His hands stop mid-stroke. Now he’s looking at her in exasperation, his face screwed up in bewilderment.

“Who gives a flying _fuck_?”

“I do!” she whisper shouts, “Been getting’ enough dirty looks as it is!”

His eyes narrow, head cocked to the side as he gives her a hard look, his mouth becoming a tight line.

“Whose been givin’ you dirty looks?” he asks, not bothering to disguise the threat in his voice.

“Everybody!” She throws her hands up in frustration, flinging herself out of his grasp. “All the women here, wantin’ to get their claws into you!” She gestures to him emphatically and now it’s his turn to stare back at her with his usually narrow eyes wide.

“Wonderin’ why you’re settlin’ for me,” Her shoulders sag in defeat; she buries her face in her hands as a hopeless sob erupts from her shaking frame.

For a moment, Daryl just stares at her blankly, staggered. His mouth opens as if to say something but no words come out. Did she hit her head when they fell? Then her shoulders tremble and she lets out another raw sob.

His hands fly up to her face, gently prying her fingers from her tear-streaked cheeks before placing a tender kiss on her salty lips.

“I ain’t settlin’, girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to cradle her against him, “Don’t got eyes for any a’ those women, they couldn’t measure up.”

She whimpers and curls her body into his.

“No?”

“Nah,” Daryl’s lips move against her neck, his hand on her lower back crushing her against his chest, “Already got the best one. You’re it, Beth.”

Beth sniffs and he feels her shaky exhale against his collarbone.

“Even though they’re older?” she asks.

“Don’ wan’ older,” he rumbles, nuzzling her shoulder.

“Even though they got… curves?”

Daryl pulls back to give her an incredulous look. He’s not even going to dignify that one with an answer. Instead, he reaches between them to cup her breast, which fills his hand perfectly. He drags his thumb over the nipple, feels the nub harden through the thin fabric. He lets out a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a growl, pushing his growing hard on against her thigh so that she can feel his dick twitch in response, _know_ the effect her body has on him.

“Beth,” he tilts her face up so that her eyes meet his, “You’re perfect. Now shut up.”

Her mouth opens in protest but Daryl silences her with a rough and desperate kiss.

He grabs her then and hauls her over his shoulder. Frantically, her hands grip at his shoulders as he crosses the tiles in a few short strides, then plants her underneath the shower, drawing the curtain around them and turning the spray on. She lets out a startled gasp, the icy water rains down on her still fully clothed body before the temperature slowly creeps up to a tolerable lukewarm. She watches the warm water turn the colour of weak coffee as it circles the plughole with spirals of dirt.

“Daryl!”  She cries, her eyes flying up to his, caught somewhere between disbelief and trying not to laugh.

He just smirks at her, eyes sparkling as he reaches forward to undo her shirt and peel the sodden fabric from her body.

The mood shifts then, her pupils yawning and her eyelids fluttering as she takes a long, shuddering breath, and watches with hazy eyes as he undresses her.

His hands are slow and gentle as he reaches for the hem of her vest, plastered to her back with drying mud, and drags it up her body. His calloused finger tips brush her shoulders as he wrestles the heavy cotton over her head and lets it fall to the floor. His hands return to her upper body so that his fingers can trace lightly over every inch of skin revealed by the water, checking her over carefully, eyes narrowed in concentration. Despite the warm water her nipples are peaked in hard points, he watches a shiver run down her spine as his eyes roam across her pale white skin, streaked with muddy water that trickles down between her breasts and collects in the dip of her belly button.

His eyes dart up, watch as hers flutter closed, head lolling on her shoulders, face flushed red and he knows it's not from the temperature of the water.

He bends down on one knee in front of her, unfastening her jeans and pulling the hard denim, along with her panties, halfway down her thighs in one deliberate motion.

Her hands fall to his shoulders as he pushes each leg up to tug the heavy fabric past each foot one at a time. The same gentle fingers roam the bared flesh of her legs, his hot breath scorching her in shallow pants as he checks her skin, kneads the muscles underneath. When his eyes swing forward, bringing him face to face with her bare pussy he hears her sharp intake of breath, his hands freeze where they cup the back of her thighs. He doesn’t need to look up to see her watching him; he feels the heat of her gaze on the side of his face.

His sandpaper cheek grazes the soft flesh of her inner thigh as he leans forward without conscious thought, as though drawn into her orbit. She flinches, her thighs clenching around her centre, silently begging for his touch. Her lips glisten with a wetness that isn’t water.

A low moan escapes his throat as her scent fills his nostrils. His eyes fall shut as his heart starts to pound all the way down to his straining cock. Feeling dizzy, he holds his breath until he feels his heart rate start to slow.   
  
"Daryl-"   
  
His eyes snap open and up, meeting her heavy lidded gaze, filled with unbridled need, mouth edging into an impatient pout when she tugs his vest up towards her and he doesn't follow. She thinks he's playing with her. Making her wait just to tease her.  
  
He tightens his fingers where they grip the back of her thighs until her gaze becomes startlingly focused.  
  
"We don't gotta rush this," he says, a smile tugging at his lips. "We got time."  
  
Beth's eyes and mouth widen in unison, her face becoming slack as the realisation dawns on her. They don’t have to rush. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore; it can be more than them just sneaking away for a moment.  
  
It's not that he wants anyone to see them, the thought of anyone looking at Beth's body like that makes his blood boil, it’s just that it's the middle of the afternoon so the showers are deserted at this time of day, and apart from Maggie nobody knows they're in here. Behind the curtain and under the spray they’ve got about as much privacy as their cells afford them, and people don't often see what they're not looking for.  
  
Her fingers twine into his hair as she holds his gaze, like she knows exactly what he's thinking. Knowing her she probably does.   
  
Her eyes become a little glassy, smile spreading across her face as she watches him stand and shrug his own clothes off. Daryl watches her heated gaze openly roam down his body, as piece by piece his dirt soaked clothes disappear, his flesh unwrapped. He doesn’t fail to notice the way that her eyes come to a halt as he drags his jeans down, his thick cock swinging between his legs.

Surging forward, he joins her under the spray, taking her mouth in his. Water pounds across his broad shoulders, her surprised gasp creating an opening for his tongue to eagerly explore.

She moans deeply as he presses his wet body against hers, the water beating down comfortably on his back. Beth's arms wrap around the slick muscles of his neck, pulling him closer, their wet lips gliding together.  
When they break apart he reaches behind her to dig the shampoo bottle out of their washbag, and squirting a generous amount in his palm before reaching up to gently massage his hand into her hair. Beth stares back at him with awestruck eyes. He raises his other hand as he devotes his attention to lathering the rest of her hair, feeling the thick strands mixed with heavy grains of dirt between his fingers. Her eyelids fall closed as the palms of his fingertips gently massage her scalp, a   
contented hum vibrating between her lips.   
When he's thoroughly massaged her hair from root to tip he steps back to guide her under the spray and let the water rinse her clean. Once the foam and the mud have washed away he steps her forward out of the spray, reaching behind her to grab a bar of soap, rubbing the block between his palms to create a lather. Blinking slowly, she watches him gently glide his fingertips across her forehead, cheeks and chin, being careful not to get any in her eyes, slowly rubbing the dirt off her skin.   
His eyes stay trained on his hands as he works, with startling focus, her blown pupils tracking his. Again, once he's satisfied, he guides her under the water to reveal gleaming skin.   
He repeats the action with the same care and devotion over her neck, shoulders, back, arms and stomach. Each act of worship sends a wave of heat shuddering through her pelvis until her hips are rocking of their own volition, teeth biting down on her bottom lip as her eyes stare blankly ahead.  
Daryl's rough fingers circle the angry bruises that are uncovered when he brings her back under the spray. His eyes tighten, pausing as he traces the damage he left earlier that day. She notices the tremble in his touch, her eyes following his gaze down to her own marked flesh.  
When his eyes meet hers they're drowning in guilt. He chews his lip and her hand reaches up to trace his cheekbone. She strokes his bottom lip with her thumb, her eyes boring into his, shaking her head softly, somehow dismissing his thoughts and reassuring him in one look.  
He lets out a ragged exhale as she presses their foreheads together.  
"I was really fuckin scared," he admits, beneath the spray, the noise of the water acting as some sort of cover. She feels his breath tingle against her lips.  
"When I heard you scream, girl, thought I was gonna die."  
She inhales sharply at that, inhaling his confession deep into her chest.   
"Daryl'" she whispers softly. Her ocean blue eyes looking back into his, so huge he could drown in them.  
The wet soap is squashed between his hand and the slippery flesh of her back as he crushes her against his chest, crashing their mouths together with desperate force.   
Her hands frame his face, holding his mouth to hers as if now she's got him she won't let him go, his hard cock pushing up into her firm stomach.  
He drops the soap, slick hands reaching down to cup her round ass and pull her up against him, her mound grazing the length of his cock, tearing a desperate gasp from them both. Both of her arms curl around his neck again as she pushes up on her toes before her legs part to shimmy up his hard thighs and wrap around his waist, climbing him like a tree. 

Her fingers lock around her wrists, her entire weight hanging from his neck, ankles linking behind his back. His hands tighten on her ass, lifting her higher as though she weighs nothing. She whimpers as her pulsing lips slide over the head of his cock. He buries a growl into her shoulder, and at the same time, reaches a hand between them, lines his cock up and buries himself inside her. She throws her head back and keens, long hair plastered to her back, slick limbs clinging to him desperately as he snaps his hips again, plunging deeper into her.

A tremor runs down Daryl’s back as he stands planted in the middle of the stall, fucking up into her pussy as her entire weight grinds down onto him with each thrust.

He staggers forward, nailing her against the wall with a wet smack, pounding into her so deep her pelvis sears with something that goes past pain and back to pleasure. Her back violently arches off the ice cold tiles, pushing her hard nipples against his looming chest, and she screams, loud and raw. Panic spreads across his face as her scream echoes around the empty room; he leans forward and covers her mouth with his. She’s howling into his open mouth, her legs starting to tremble as she plummets towards her release.

He doesn’t stop, he can’t. He keeps fucking her like that, pinned up against the tiles, the harsh slap of skin on skin and his own laboured breathing drowned out by the falling water. Beth chokes, her head thrown back hard enough he hears it hit the wall with a dull thunk and she’s cumming, her pussy clamping down hard on his dick, her toes curling, heels digging into his ass as her entire body spasms. His hands grip her thighs so hard his knuckles turn white at the sheer overwhelming tightness of her fluttering pussy as she rides her orgasm and his dick.

“ _Fuckin’ hell_ ,” he curses, his voice scratched raw as he shakily lifts her up to pull out, only in enough time to spray her swollen pussy lips with his cum. He lets out a strangled sound, more animal than man as he presses his forehead into the wall, holding them both up on trembling legs.

Still clinging to his neck, she unwraps herself from around his waist and lowers her own wobbly legs gingerly to the floor. He collapses forward, bracing a hand against the wall beside her head, panting and clutching her to his chest. His head twists to the side as hers lolls towards him, her flushed cheek touching the cold tiles, and their eyes meet under the cooling spray.

He holds her gaze for a few moments. Beth smiles softly up at him, fingers unlocking, sliding her palms down to rest lightly against his heaving chest. What can he do besides lean in and kiss her.

He jerks away suddenly, entire body tensing up as the water turns cold. Cursing under his breath, he reaches past her to turn the shower off before shaking the hair out of his eyes like a wet dog.

Beth giggles, turning her face away from the water shaking off of him and wrinkling her nose. He smirks at her, crowding her with his body and nuzzling his wet hair against her cheek, reaching down with both hands to cup her ass and pull her flush against him. She’s squirming half-heartedly in his grasp when a shiver runs through her body. Daryl frowns.

“C’mon, let’s get you dry before you catch cold,” he presses a kiss to her forehead before untangling their limbs and ducking out round the curtain.

Beth leans against the wall, wrapping her arms across her torso as her teeth begin to chatter, suddenly aware of how cold it is without Daryl’s blasting heat against her body.

In no time at all he’s back, clean clothes thrown over his shoulder. As she pushes away from the wall he bundles her in a clean towel. A smile creeps across her face and up to her eyes as he rubs her hair until it’s no longer dripping before running the towel quickly over her body. When he lingers to squeeze her ass, she giggles again, wiggling back into his touch. His eyes flick upwards.

“Girl, much more a’ that an I’ll be ready to go again,’” he smirks, handing her her clothes and bringing the damp towel up to ruffle it through his own hair.

She pulls on fresh panties, jean shorts and a camisole in no time at all, enjoying the twisting muscles in his arms as he uses the towel to dry himself off before pulling on fresh jeans and a shirt, foregoing underwear entirely. Then he gathers their dirty clothes and the towel, yanks the curtain back and tosses them in the dirty laundry hamper. He smirks when he looks back and catches her watching him. When her eyes flick upwards to his face and find him smirking that Dixon smirk she blushes red from her hairline to her ears.

Immediately, he reaches forward and grabs her hand, pressing their palms flat together. Then he pulls her with him as he strides across the room, his grip tightening as they exit the showers. He shows no signs of letting go anytime soon as they make their way through the hallways of the prison and their fingers remain firmly laced together when they walk through their cell block, as he pulls her up the stairs and into their cell.     

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the 'Seen and Unseen' series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> So, what's next?


End file.
